


well, you're the best man (so what's the plan?)

by ohcinnamon



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mutual Pining, i had tis really cute idea and i had to write it because marriage?? proposals??, look okay, sign me the fuck up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 04:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11798343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcinnamon/pseuds/ohcinnamon
Summary: And when Patrick flashes him a grin from across the dance floor, Pete knows he’s made the right decision. Everything he needs to know is written in that smile; he’s happy. He’s so, so happy, and Pete’s going to do his damnedest to be happy for him, too.The thing that Pete doesn’t know, though - and the thing that Patrick’s never going to tell him - is that if Pete had come forward with his feelings years ago, months ago, even, Patrick still would have said yes. Part of him will always be saying yes.





	well, you're the best man (so what's the plan?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emeraldcitydowntowngirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl/gifts).



> _to: uma [1:55 PM] - i just. had a fic idea or something and started crying??_  
>     
> part of the conquest [uma](http://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl) and i have decided to begin to filter out the peterick tag and save it with cuteness (because damn, there's been a lot of...weirdness in the tag lately. you can check it out for yourself.) 
> 
> title from "menswear" by the 1975.

If Patrick keeps pacing like that, Pete’s going to have to take some more of his _own_ anxiety medicine. It’s making him that nervous, and he’s just the best man.

“Patrick, trust me. It’s going to be fine,” Pete tries to reassure him, getting up to make sure they’ve done everything they need to do. He grabs Patrick as he passes and pulls his hands out of his hair - seriously, if Patrick keeps running them through it like that, it’ll be so messy that they won’t have time to fix it. He shoots Pete a glare, but Pete knows he doesn’t mean it. He’s too stressed out to realize what he’s doing. “Your anxiety is making _me_ sick, dude.”

Patrick's face falls, and he presses the heels of his palms over his eyes, trying to block everything out. “I'm sorry. I'm just. You know. Freaking out a little bit.”

“I know you are,” Pete says, beckoning for him to come over instead of pacing the floor. “But I promise that everything is going to be okay. I'm not gonna let anything mess this up for you. It's _your_ day, and I won't let anything go wrong.”

He grabs Patrick’s tie, helps him button up the last few buttons on his shirt that he’d forgotten in his panic. Patrick, to his credit, stays still and lets him. He just holds his breath and tries his hardest not to start freaking out again.

“Do I look okay?”

“Look _okay?_ ” Pete scoffs, tightening Patrick’s tie before stepping back to admire his work. Patrick has never looked anything less than great, and right now, he looks stunning. People would be falling all over themselves to talk to him - well, more than they already are. “Are you kidding me?”

“Pete, I'm serious,” Patrick warns him, a nervous edge to his voice. “You know…you know how I get about these kinds of things.”

“Then just take a look at yourself,” Pete murmurs, turning him to face the mirror. “You look amazing. Handsomest man I’ve ever met.”

And honestly, that should be taking it a step too far, but the compliment flies over Patrick’s head as his expression softens. He nods to himself, taking a deep breath to relax his shoulders, before turning to face Pete with a warm intensity in his eyes that the older man can’t quite read.

“Thank you for doing all of this for me,” Patrick whispers, wrapping Pete in one of the tightest embraces he’s ever received in his life. Pete can feel the tension beginning to drain out of his body, evaporating in the quiet air around them. He could stay trapped in this moment of time forever and honestly never care. “I love you. I seriously love you.”

It hits Pete right in the chest, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs, because he knows Patrick doesn’t mean it - not in the way he does. But he doesn’t let it show, returning the hug without hesitation and rubbing circles into Patrick’s back to soothe him. “Of course I’d do all of this for you. I love you, too.”

They stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and protected from the outside world. Every muscle in Pete’s body is aching for him to hold on and never let go, to keep Patrick all to himself forever. As selfish as it is, he can’t deny that it’s everything he wants and more. If it were his choice, he would. The only problem is that, because he loves Patrick, it’s not his choice. He wants Patrick to be happy, even if it means losing him forever.

Sure, Patrick will always be his best friend - it's not like he'll never see him again - but it still feels like a loss. He's never going to get the opportunity to confess his feelings, though he's not sure if Patrick would have returned them by now, anyway. He'd wasted too much time and doubted himself too much, and even if he would have ended up heartbroken, now he doesn't even get the chance to find out.

Pete pulls away, giving him one last once-over before letting him go. “I’ve seen you take on crowds at packed arenas, Patrick. We’ve gone all over the world, accepted awards - hell, you’ve done more in a few years than most people do in their lifetime.” He swallows his pride, tries his best at a smile. “If anyone is ready to do this, as scary as it may be, it’s you.”

Patrick nods, a nervous half-smile crossing his face. “You’re right, Pete. Thank you. I couldn’t do this without you, I’m so glad you’re here. You know that, right?”

Pete takes the jab to his heart covered flawlessly, smiling in all the right places, saying all the right things. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

As much as he loves Patrick, he wants him to be happy even more than that. So he takes his place as the best man, watches as his best friend walks down the aisle, and ignores the pang of newfound emptiness in his chest. He pushes down all the intrusive thoughts and focuses on being there in the moment, for Patrick. Everything is for him. So what if it hurts? That’s what the open bar is for - secretly drowning your sorrows in liquor.

And, later, when Patrick flashes him a grin from across the dance floor, Pete knows he’s made the right decision. Everything he needs to know is written in that smile; he’s _happy_. He’s so, so happy, and Pete’s going to do his damnedest to be happy for him, too.

The thing that Pete doesn’t know, though - and the thing that Patrick’s never going to tell him - is that if Pete had come forward with his feelings years ago, _months_ ago, even, Patrick still would have said yes. Part of him will always be saying yes.

 

* * *

 

 

To say that Pete was surprised when Patrick showed up at his doorstep at 3 AM a couple of years later - tears streaking down his cheeks, claiming that his marriage was falling apart and he didn’t know what to do - would be an understatement. But there he was, as real and solid as ever, turning Pete’s life upside down all over again. Pete welcomed him with open arms, shoved down the sparks of hope flickering in his chest, and helped him get to work.

They’ve spent the past couple of months practically inseparable, maneuvering their way through the exhausting world of divorce - who gets this, who lives where, et cetera. Pete’s guest room has practically become Patrick’s new home - not that he minds. In fact, he’s glad that Patrick came to him with this. It’s been nice, getting to know each other again, and Pete honestly feels like they’re closer now than they’ve ever been.

And no best friend reunion would be complete without excruciating days filled with court dates, press releases, and seemingly endless stacks of paperwork to be filled out and filed. The paperwork days were the worst, because the two of them would have to sift through document after document, scanning and analyzing until they burned themselves out. After paperwork days, Pete's pretty sure that his brain isn't anything more than a pile of goo now, and Patrick looks like he's been up for three days straight - which honestly isn't that far from the truth.

Today was a paperwork day. It’s all right, though, because there’s not much Pete _wouldn’t_ do for Patrick.

After a couple glasses of wine to loosen them up, they both fall onto the sofa at midnight, some late-night comedy show providing a low hum of laughter to fill the gaps between the lulls in conversation. It’s nice, being able to be so comfortable with each other again. If Pete closes his eyes and pretends just enough, he can almost picture what it would be like to Patrick around like this all the time.

He glances over at Patrick out of the corner of his eye, his heart flipping in his chest. He’s beautiful even when he’s completely drained, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep himself awake. His pale skin is bathed in the white-blue light from the television, cheeks tinged red from the alcohol and lack of sleep, and Pete can’t look away. He’s as stunning as he’s always been, and normally Pete would know how to contain himself, but right now he has to curl his hands into fists to keep himself from doing something stupid like pushing him onto his back and kissing him until they’re both breathless.

“Jesus, this is too stressful,” Patrick breaks the silence suddenly, his eyes falling shut as he leans his head back against the wall. He looks so, so tired - Pete’s exhausted just _seeing_ him like this. He slips one hand into Patrick’s, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tightly, if only just to provide something solid for him to hang on to. Patrick looks up at him with warm, grateful eyes, and Pete wonders how anyone could ever stop loving him. He certainly hasn’t. “Thanks for sticking around.”

“Of course I’d stick around, stupid,” Pete smiles, nudging his shoulder gently. “I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to help you through this.”

“I love you too. You’re honestly the best person ever. I don’t even want to know what I’d be thinking right now if I was doing this on my own.” He leans over, rests his head on Pete’s shoulder, and sighs loudly. Pete soaks it up as much as he can - Patrick’s been so affectionate ever since they reconnected that he hadn’t known what to do at first. Then he realized he was being an _idiot,_ and he should take advantage of the time he has with snuggly Patrick while he’s still there.

When Pete wraps an arm around him, he doesn’t hesitate, just leans right into his side - hell, Pete thinks he might even see a hint of a smile on his face. Every beat of his heart sends new waves of warmth coursing through his veins, drowning him in bliss. If he could stop time, this would be the moment he’d choose to live in forever.

And then, Patrick being Patrick, decides to say something that makes Pete’s heart stop dead in his chest. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I had just married you instead.”

Pete’s breath catches in his throat, because that’s something he’s been thinking about for a long, long time. He thought he'd closed that door a while ago, but apparently not, because now his pulse is racing like he's ran a marathon and his heart threatens to burst straight out of his chest. All coherent thought flies out the window, because those are words he’s not sure he could have ever been prepared to hear - meaning intended or not.

And because it’s late, he’s particularly emotional, he’s a little bit buzzed off the wine, and he’s never really been good at holding his tongue, Pete clears his throat and says, “you still have the chance to find out, you know.”

_Oh, fuck. Oh, god, why can’t I ever shut my fucking mouth?_

Patrick doesn't let go of his hand.

Instead, he turns toward Pete slowly, blinking in surprise. Even in the dim light, Pete can tell his pupils are blown, the blue of his irises nearly disappearing. “...I do?”

Pete nods hesitantly, watching the way Patrick’s breath catches all at once. It’s the stupidest thing he’s ever said, but he still can’t stop himself from letting this whole situation snowball toward possible disaster. All the things he’s wanted to say for years are right there, on the tip of his tongue, and now he can’t even stop it if he tried. “You always have.”

“That’s...good to know,” Patrick replies deliberately, a deep blush settling across his cheeks, and...that’s not a _no_? In fact, Pete’s thinking he might be right to be cautiously optimistic. He tightens his grip on Pete’s hand, looking down at the floor bashfully. “I might have to save that for...uh, future reference.”

Pete figures that’s as close as he’s going to get without actually just telling him straight up, so he just decides to go for it. He leans in slowly, carefully, like the floor is about to fall out from under them. He’s so, so afraid that he’s the only one that wants this - that he’s just stuck in his own head and projecting his own feelings onto Patrick, but then Patrick meets him halfway. Patrick is right there, following his lead without hesitation, and that’s when it clicks. He _knows_.

This kiss is awkward, because it’s their first (well, their first _real_ kiss, anyway) but it’s still ten thousand times better than anything Pete ever would’ve expected - hell, he’s _kissing Patrick,_ the one person he’d always wanted but never thought he’d have a chance with. The blonde is slow, but not hesitant, and Pete feels like his heart is going to burst when Patrick’s hands come up to tangle in his hair, a content sigh bubbling up out of his lungs. Pete slides his tongue along his bottom lip, soft whines escaping from his throat, and suddenly the entire world disappears. Nothing matters - not the lack of sleep, not the court dates, not the paperwork, _nothing_ \- because it’s _them_ and so it’s _perfect._

Somewhere along the line, Patrick crawls into his lap, cheeks burning red and eyes darkened with longing, and now they're _really_ kissing - soft noises of pleasure and labored breathing breaking the silence, the slide of warm lips coupled with the heat of flushed skin. He tastes like pink moscato and perfection, sweet and earnest. Patrick captures his bottom lip, sucking gently, and the quiet moan that eases out of his throat is the most honest thing that’s ever fallen from his lips. If he’s dreaming right now, he never, ever wants to wake up.

Pete can pinpoint the exact moment his soul departs his body - it’s when Patrick falls forward against his chest, one hand sliding up the back of his shirt, murmuring things like “ _please_ ” and “ _want_ ” and something that sounds suspiciously close to his name. He wants - he wants to pull Patrick off of the sofa and into his room, press him into his mattress and _show_ him how much he loves him, but that’s probably not the best idea. If this is going to be something, he wants to do it right. He’s not gonna mess up what may be his only shot at this. Curse his brain for actually _thinking_ at the most inconvenient times.

So, in an entirely non-Pete Wentz fashion, he forces himself to pull back and assess the situation.

“Huh?” Patrick asks, blinking dazedly, confused at the sudden change in pace. “Pete? You okay?”

“Yes! Of course,” Pete scrambles to say, cupping Patrick’s face in one hand. “Everything is fine. I was just...thinking.”

“That’s never good,” Patrick muses, shooting him an inquisitive stare. “Thinking about what?”

Pete swallows hard, forcing down the last of his pride. He drops his hand from Patrick’s face, stares down at the floor. _It’s now or never._

“Please tell me you’re not fucking with me,” Pete begs quietly, dimly aware of how desperate he sounds. “Tell me that I’m not a rebound and that you want me as much as I want you and that I’m not dreaming.”

Patrick scrunches his nose up, looking offended that Pete would even suggest the idea of being a rebound. “Are you kidding me? Pete, of course I’m not fucking with you. In case you didn’t notice, I don’t exactly go around kissing all of my best friends - and I certainly wouldn’t get so excited about you _literally suggesting marrying me_ if my feelings for you were just platonic.” His expression shifts from confused to affectionate, and he brushes a soft kiss over Pete’s lips to prove his point. “Seriously, this is real. I’ve kind of had a thing for you since I was eighteen, for god’s sake. Either I’m very good at hiding my emotions, or you’re the most oblivious person on the planet.”

Pete breaks into a grin, unable to contain himself anymore. “It’s probably a combination of both, if we’re being honest. Knowing when other people have feelings for me has never been my strong suit.”

Patrick rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. “Seriously, Pete. _Eighteen._ ”

Pete’s chest fills and holds, and he finds himself reaching out to tuck a piece of Patrick’s hair back into place, domestic in a way that it's never been before. “You know, all those times I said I was gonna marry you someday - I was only half-joking. I’ve sort of been in love with you this entire time.”

“You have not,” Patrick scoffs, cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. Pete grabs both of his hands and intertwines their fingers. Now that he has reason to hold on, he’s never going to let go. “The entire time?”

“You've always been my golden ticket,” Pete says, watching as Patrick’s gaze goes warm and soft at the edges. “And so much more than that.”

“You're insufferable,” Patrick insists, but he's grinning. It's enough to make Pete feel like he's glowing from the inside out. “But you're you. And I love you.”

“So you really want to do this?” Pete asks, still holding both of his hands tightly, gripping them like his life depends on it. “Date, fall in love with me, get married - the whole nine yards?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here,” Patrick chuckles, his eyes glittering with a beautiful mix of happiness and adoration. “But yeah, I’d really like to do that. The whole nine yards. Although I think we may have skipped some steps already - or we’ve been doing them in the wrong order, I’m not really sure.”

Pete nods enthusiastically, grinning so wide it feels like his face is going to split in two. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this with you.”

“Come on, then,” Patrick murmurs, pulling him back in and resting their foreheads together, a sweet smile lighting up his face. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Since he was eighteen,” Pete sighs dreamily, falling back into Joe's recliner like the thought makes him weak in the knees - which, if he’s being honest, it does. “Can you believe it?”

“Yes,” Joe and Andy groan at the same time, looking like they’re at the end of their ropes - which they may very well be. Pete’s not really sorry, though.

Pete grins, hiding his face in his hands. “ _Guys._ I never thought this was gonna happen. Like, ever. I might be marrying my best friend. This is _huge._ ”

“So wait,” Joe says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you engaged or not? Because I feel like there’s not really a middle ground in this kind of thing. You either are, or you aren’t.”

“ _Well_ ,” Pete laughs nervously, glancing up at his perplexed bandmates. “I haven’t proposed to him _technically_ , but...I think we both know it’s coming sooner or later. We’re trying to do things perfectly - getting used to dating instead of just pining, taking it slow - but he said he’d be willing to go the whole nine yards. I think I might actually be getting this one right.”

“Well, it’s about fucking time,” Andy says, flopping onto Joe’s couch as Pete shoots him an offended look. “What? We’ve had to live with your stupid tension for the past fucking decade or so. Joe, back me up here.”

“It’s true,” Joe admits, a smile lighting up his face. “But mostly we’re just happy to see you guys happy. I don’t ever think I’ve seen Patrick so ditzy. He nearly missed a step on the stairs today because he had that hazy, dreamy look in his eyes. It took me yelling his name three times and clapping to get his attention.”

“Really?” Pete asks, warmth flooding his chest. Being stupidly giddy on his own is great, but being stupidly giddy with Patrick is even better.

“Yes, dipshit,” Joe grins, flicking him across the nose. “Now that you've finally stopped being dumbasses about this whole thing, Patrick’s an excited mess - just like you.”

“Speaking of excited messes…” Andy starts, a mischievous grin on his face. “No fucking on the bus.” He laughs at his declaration - mostly just because of the way all the blood rushes to Pete’s cheeks at once.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Pete mumbles, flipping him the bird. “Not like we’d want to have sex around you two anyway. You both have a _scary_ amount of intuition.”

“Not true,” Joe smirks, sharing a knowing look with Andy. “We just know you two way too well. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

Pete waves them off, rolling his eyes. “Oh, what _ever_. You know you love us.”

“That’s true, we do,” Andy muses, a slight smile curling up the ends of his lips. “We’re just playing with you. This _is_ exciting, for all of us.”

“So...you guys really are cool with this?” Pete asks, hope fluttering in his chest. “It really doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah, of course not,” Joe reassures him, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Like Andy said, it’s about time you two got together. We’re totally fine with it. More than fine, really. Happy.”

“As long as you didn’t do something dumb like invest in promise rings,” Andy teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Pete immediately shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Right,” Pete huffs out a laugh, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. “That’s...stupid. Dumb. Yeah.”

Joe’s eyes go wide and he starts to snicker, grabbing Pete by the wrists and yanking his arms up. “Oh my god, you _did_ , didn’t you?” Sure enough, a flash of gold glints in the light, making Pete smile subconsciously - it makes him so _happy_ , no matter what the others think of it. “Don’t even tell me how long it took you to convince Patrick this was a good idea.”

“Actually, Patrick was on board with it from the beginning,” Pete says, watching as both of them look on in disbelief. “What? I'm not the only romantic one here, you know - just the most obvious about it.”

“I’m kicking you out of this band,” Andy groans, burying his face in his hands. “Both of you. We’re recruiting Brendon to sing now.”

“Brendon’s just as much of a hopeless romantic as I am,” Pete reminds them in a singsong voice, grinning at their disdain because he knows he’s right. “Admit it. You think it’s cute, deep down in your dark, tiny souls.”

“It’s so _sappy_ ,” Joe says, trying to keep himself composed. “And you’re an idiot. But…” he and Andy make eye contact, smiling slightly. “...we’d better be the best men at your wedding, asshole. We deserve it after all these years of torture.”

Pete smiles to himself, because they’re right. It is kinda dumb. Or dorky, at least. They have no idea what’s going to happen in the future - and yet Pete doesn’t really care. For as long as he can remember, all he’s been able to see in his future was Patrick, and now that he’s finally gotten his chance, he’s not gonna mess it up. He’s committed to this for the long run, whether they believe it or not.

It’s so damn cliche, but he loves it.

 


End file.
